What He Left Behind
by milkchocolateboat
Summary: To many, the veil that rested in the Department of Mysteries meant instant death. For Sirius Black, in some ways it was. He had traveled back in time to his seventh year at Hogwarts, but knowing he could change the future was unbearable when he realized he had left Harry behind.
1. Beyond the Veil

_**A friend and I were talking the other day about the worst deaths in Harry Potter. I told him I thought Sirius' death was the worst emotionally, but he disagreed and I foolishly asked why. He regarded me as though I was an idiot and said very plainly, "I didn't see a body."**_

_**So that got me thinking.**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing; all characters (save for those I may create on my own) will always belong to J.K. Rowling.**_

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><p>Sirius Black could say with absolute certainty that he was used to the dark. No one could spend even a minute in Azkaban without being exposed to the almost eerie prevalence of both a pitch-black place and a pitch-black mind. He supposed after that terrible experience he should probably feel terrified of dark places, but the only feelings he could conjure up when thinking about a lack of light were those of nostalgia. Memories of roaming Hogwarts grounds in the dead of night, with nothing but a simple <em>Lumos<em> to keep from tripping over his own two feet would always overtake the memories of Azkaban. He was lucky, in a way. But then he would remember those he had roamed with, and the sadness would creep back up.

Overall, the darkness gave him both pleasure and pain.

But the darkness that he saw before him was like no other he had experienced. He did not feel dread or happiness. He felt strangely calm, and that terrified him more than anything else. He tried to think back, to remember how he came across such an awful place. He struggled in vain, for the only image that came to mind was Harry, looking like someone had punched him in the gut.

And then blackness.

He tried to call out, but realized that he could not speak at all. His body felt numb, and he got the feeling that he was floating. He wondered if he had died, and that what he was experiencing at that moment was some sort of hellish purgatory. He laughed bitterly at the implications; he knew he deserved every bit of it, but the ache in his chest made him saddened that this was his punishment. He and James used to joke about it when they were naïve teenagers. They would cause havoc, even after they were both dead and gone. They'd be old men pulling pranks, and then, when they both died (at the ripe age of 95; double heart attacks, of course) they'd continue their reign of marauding terror together in the afterlife.

Then James fell in love with Lily, and another person had been added to their plans.

He hadn't minded at the time, but looking back, he supposed he was a bit jealous that he had to share his best mate. Either way, their plans had ultimately failed, with one dead not long after he had become a father, and the other currently floating in an empty abyss.

The silence was another achingly familiar companion, enough so that it put his teeth on edge. He remembered the quiet; that was another perk of a lifetime in Azkaban. He either heard silence or screams of madness echoing in the night, and, as he was contemplating his very short life in his veiled purgatory, he silently wished that the screaming would return. Then he wouldn't feel so alone.

Alone.

The word hit him harder than he thought, and this is what caused him to almost break down. The darkness was almost bearable, but the loneliness was something he would never be used to. He spent the first eleven years of his life feeling completely isolated from his family. Then he spent the next few years around the one thing he lacked in the noble house of Black: company. After he felt like he couldn't be happier, those feelings of belonging were ripped away the night he was branded a traitor and shipped right off to Azkaban. Alone.

Alone.

No. He couldn't do it. He tried screaming, but the words remained stuck to the back of his throat like glue. He tried to move, but found that he could not lift his hands above his head, nor kick his feet enough to produce any sort of progress. Whatever weighed him down, he knew he had to fight it. He would not be able to stay sane in an empty world. Azkaban had not prepared him for this. At least in Azkaban he had always known death could be his salvation, but to spend the rest of eternity in total darkness? He almost cried at the thought.

That's when he heard something.

He stopped trying to move and lifted his head toward the sound. He knew that imaginary voices were what started off a path of insanity. That he learned the hard way. But he didn't care. He listened to try and make out what the whispers were saying, but they were growing quieter and more distant.

_Please, come back_ he felt like begging, but he had already tried calling out. It wouldn't do him any good.

With the voices becoming nothing but an echo in the back of his mind, he dropped his head in frustration. Lifting it again, he noticed something that he had almost forgotten.

He still had his wand.

He didn't know if magic would work, but he knew he should at least try something. He sluggishly pulled his wand out in front of him, and said the silent incantation for light.

A small, white light appeared at the tip of his wand, and if he could have done so, he would have jumped for joy. He moved the wand around to try and find any other source of light, but saw none. The only object he could make out in the murky veils of darkness that surrounded him was a small stone.

Propelling himself forward with another silent spell, he inspected the small item that floated with him in the hellish darkness. It was jagged, and almost appeared to be blood red. He thought it looked slightly familiar, but brushed off that thought almost immediately. He heard more whispers as he inched closer and closer, and that brought him some semblance of hope. Reaching out, he hoped by touching the object that he could find out what the voices were saying.

He only prodded the thing with his middle finger. Nothing more.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on a cold surface, clutching the small object with his left hand. Opening his eyes, he was momentarily blinded by the light.

Light.

He shook off the thought, and just thanked whatever God was out there that he wasn't cursed forever to sleep in hell. He finally opened his eyes all the way, and was shocked that, as his sight became less blurry, he saw an old man with a long white beard looking curiously down at him.

A very familiar old man.

"Huh," said the man, the confusion evident in his tone. "When I tested the efficiency of this mirror to hold- the object in your hand now- I never expected a person to come out with it."

The old man straightened up, and the young man who held the philosopher's stone in his left hand began to stand.

The old man smiled, and proclaimed, "Well, no matter. We have to get you situated. Are you perhaps a member of the Black family? I would recognize those features anywhere. I'll just be taking that rock back, and I can call on one of the members of the Black family to escort you out. It may be the summer holidays, but I'm sure the family will be happy to see one of their own safe and sound. Regulus, one of our incoming fifth years, would probably be perfect. I presume you know young Regulus?"

Sirius Black could only comprehend very small pieces of what Dumbledore was saying. He heard "Regulus" and "fifth year," but refused to believe it until he looked into Dumbledore's serious eyes. Though he put on a casual front, he knew Dumbledore was wary that a seemingly complete stranger just appeared out of nowhere. And that the stranger was not only a member of a known dark family, but he was also holding tightly onto one of the most dangerous magical treasures that ever existed.

Fourteen years before it would be destroyed.

He knew immediately why he had recognized the stone. He had been shown drawings of it by Moony, and later, by Dumbledore himself. He looked into his blood stained hand, the hand that gripped the stone. And handed it right into the waiting palm of Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore gently smiled, but Sirius knew him well enough to notice the slight glimmer of relief pass through him.

Looking around, he wondered if this could be some ploy by the Death Eaters, but thought against it after searching his eyes around the familiar office. The portraits were the same, and he had been sent to the Headmaster's office enough to recognize every single nook and cranny that existed. And looking at the man he knew as Albus Dumbledore, his canine instincts insisted that this man was the real deal.

And those don't lie.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, probably perturbed by Sirius' quiet demeanor. Sirius straightened up, and smiled slightly at the man who once helped save his life.

"Would you care for that escort, Mr.-"

"Grim. Harry Grim." Sirius said without a moment's hesitation. He knew he would need an alias, but with the disbelieving look in Dumbledore's eyes, he supposed he needed at least one confidant.

"And you won't believe what I'm about to tell you."

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><p><em><strong>AN I know Dumbledore probably didn't test out whether the Mirror of Erised could hold the stone before Harry's first year. But that's the thing about fanfiction; I can take liberties like those while still trying to remain on the path of the canon world we love so much.**_

_**I've never written an actual story before, just some one-shots that were also ideas that I found interesting, so I don't know if I'll continue this. Like I said, it's been a nugget in the back of my head ever since my friend and I talked about it, so my goal was mainly to get it on paper. I suppose this could probably stand alone (maybe), and I have a busy workload this coming year. I apologize if I don't update regularly, if at all. I'll try my best, because I can already see a few directions in which this potential story can go. **_

_**~M**_


	2. Times of Confrontation

"Mr. Grim, I believe you'll find I'm a very flexible person," Albus said with a soft smile, but underneath his almost impeccable façade, he wondered why this man, so clearly a member of the Black family, would lie about his identity. He suspected that it might be some sort of ploy, so he held the Elder Wand tightly, knowing he may need to use it at any moment. He wondered how the man came from the mirror, when an almost impossible thought dawned on him.

He shook his head slightly to clear his fantastical thoughts.

_No_, he mused, _can't be._

The man who claimed his name was Harry Grim gave a wolfish grin, somehow noticing Albus' uneasiness. His poker face must have been getting worse over the years.

The man who fell out of the Mirror of Erised looked, in Albus' humble opinion, like he came from a hell no one would want to participate in. His cheeks were sunken and rubbery, his hair a bit greasy and long, and though his eyes attempted to show off childish whimsy, they failed to do so. All Albus could see in those gray eyes were helplessness and loss. Lucky for Harry Grim that he was such a sad being, else Albus may have cursed him the moment he fell through the mirror. But because he was not one to turn his back on those who needed help, he decided to keep up this interesting guise for however long it took to get information out of the ragged man before him.

Grim closed his eyes after a few moments of silence, and asked very simply, "Would it be possible for me to sit down? I've had a very long day, and my bones have yet to recover fully from some of the awful things that have happened the past few years."

Albus ushered him into one of the chairs facing opposite his own seat. And there they sat, a stranger and an old man, watching each other with an intense gaze. Suddenly, Albus stupidly realized that he had not confiscated the stranger's wand. His breathing became quicker knowing that this potential enemy was armed, but the stranger's child-like eyes almost calmed him down enough to keep calm.

Almost.

"So Mr. Grim, what is it that I 'won't believe' exactly?" Albus asked as diplomatically as possible, but this strange man must have noticed the slightly icy tone, for he looked away.

Harry Grim paused, as if contemplating how he was going to explain his sudden appearance at Hogwarts, for it was known by all that one could not apparate in or out of the castle.

Finally, the stranger spoke, his worn and husky voice almost echoing in the large room. "I'll explain, I promise, but I would like to know something first. Would it be possible for me to ask a question? Purely for clarification purposes." Hesitantly, Albus nodded his head, and the stranger sighed.

"This is going to sound quite odd, but could you tell me the exact date?"

If Albus had been drinking something, he would have certainly spit it out. _So this is the man's plan _he thought wearily. _Try and coerce me with tales of time travel._

Nonetheless, he humored Harry Grim.

"It is July 31st, 1977 Mr. Grim, though I assume that may not have been the answer you wanted to hear." Albus said tersely.

Multiple emotions crossed the man's face. Disbelief. Denial. Joy. Sorrow. And finally guilt, which Albus found himself confused by.

"I expected as much when you said Regulus was here," the man mumbled, his voice sounded hollow and agonizingly familiar, "but it didn't quite sink in until right now."

Albus tapped his foot, waiting for the man calling himself Harry Grim to shout about the wonders of time travel, how he was Regulus' great-great grandson, or how he came back in time to save the world. But he did none of those things. He looked at Albus with a mixture of sadness and acceptance and said plainly, "I don't know if it would be right to tell you what happens. Any of it. It's unfair, but bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time." He smiled slightly, as if reliving a comical memory. "When Harry told me about that….. Never mind. Living in the past now. Or, I guess it would be future? I don't know."

He stood up straight, looking more confident than Albus guessed he felt. "Professor, you have two options in front of you. The first is to let me go on my merry way. I'll even drink that damned potion, the what's-it-called truth potion to let you know I mean know harm." He hesitated, and then revised his earlier statement to "well, harm to no one except for Death Eaters."

He looked directly at Albus before he continued, and the old man swore that those cold eyes could read his thoughts. "The second is to listen to what I have to say about who I am and to observe the future as it happens. As it's meant to happen." He smirked a bit. "I already know you don't believe I am who I say I am. You've always been good at looking past deception. Well…" he amended, keeping his eyes trained on the cupboard where Albus hid his pensieve, "almost always."

Albus didn't think he wanted to know what was meant with that last statement, but his thoughts quickly turned to other issues set forth by Grim. Would he be able to just let this man go? Albus could feel a war on the horizon, and the amount of people he knew he could trust was dwindling faster than he could say "Sherbet Lemon." He could always force the truth out of Grim and then lock him up, he mused, but that was against Albus' moral code. No. If he were going to get any information about the apparent future, he would do it the right way and go from there. The man had not caused any trouble, nor had any threats been made. Albus decided, reluctantly, that he would give this peculiar man the benefit of the doubt.

"I will choose the second option." Albus said warily. Before Grim could utter a single word. Albus quickly added, "but if I don't believe what I am to hear, I can use Veriterserum, or, as you so eloquently put it, the 'what's-it-called truth potion,' to confirm any information." Albus chuckled at the interesting name for the formidable potion, but sobered up enough to ask, "Is that clear?"

Grim smiled a bit at Albus' joke at his expense, and said "Crystal."

Grim sat down again, perhaps not even realizing that he had been standing in an abrasive position, and looked at Albus, ready for him to start the round of twenty questions.

Albus smiled a bit at the man's newfound energy, but started off with something simple.

"Is Harry Grim your real name?"

It was almost said as more of a statement, because Albus already knew the answer. He just needed confirmation on his first suspicions.

Grim seemed as if he expected this one, because he quickly replied "No."

"Do I know you right now, in this current time?"

"Yes."

Albus pulled back a bit, not expecting this particular answer. He assumed that whoever this was, he was not a man even close to this time. However, thinking back to the stranger's reactions, it was clear that he was not comfortable being in his present situation for reasons other than he was out of time. Yes. He knew people, people who he did not want to see. He even gazed at Albus with a hint of trepidation, making Albus' curiosity at this man's identity grow even stronger.

"You're a Black."

This one wasn't even a question.

"Yup."

"Regulus?"

This was Albus' answer. That boy was destined to be a Death Eater, hence why he was so uncomfortable being with Albus. But even that didn't feel right. Something about the eyes.

Grim laughed without humor. "Come now Professor, and I thought you knew me better than that! Did you know I once painstakingly dedicated a shrine to you in my chocolate frog cards as a fourth year? Can't believe you would let me down like this by guessing I was my brother!"

"Are you Sirius?"

Impossible.

Sirius Black grinned. "Totally. I had like 50 cards stacked up, no joke."

Even Albus had to smile at the horrible pun. No one else but Sirius Black could make such awful jokes.

But then he remembered why he was interviewing him in the first place, and cautiously asked, "Do you have any proof? Otherwise, I think I might have to turn to the Veriterserum. This is very hard to believe."

Sirius thought very long and hard, and Albus could almost see the gears working in his head. Then he smiled, as if telling himself some secret inside joke, and stood up. Albus followed suit, a bit nervous about what Sirius would do to "prove himself."

"I always suspected you might know about this particular secret, Professor," said Sirius. "Either you'll be very alarmed and confused, or know that I'm telling the truth." He smirked a bit, some sadness still evident, but he looked calmer now. "Honestly, I'm kind of hoping you _do_ freak out just a little."

What did he mean by that?

Before he could ask, Albus found himself standing face to face with the man claiming to be Sirius Black.

Then, in a split second, the man was gone.

Standing where Sirius stood was a large, black dog, wagging his tail, and looking just a little too pleased with himself.

_**A/N I think I'm going to attempt to continue this. I have this idea for the ending that just won't leave my head, so, fortunately, I'll keep trucking on. I don't know how long this will be, nor do I know at what point it's going to end. But I'll finish it. Even if it takes forever. Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	3. Theories of Change

_**A shout out to my four reviewers- thank you! It's nice to know that people are enjoying the story. Seeing as I have a good idea of where I'm going with this, I'm going to TRY to keep to some sort of schedule. I'm going to attempt to update once a week, on either Saturday or Sunday. This is, of course, tentative, but watch specifically for those days!**_

As a dog, Sirius noticed a lot more than he would while as a human.

This observation went unnoticed in Azkaban; that horrid place almost required him to let go of every aspect of his being. But in the quiet of Dumbledore's office, he looked to the old man and saw things he hadn't seen before. The headmaster was shaking just a bit, and though it would probably have not been seen by anyone, Sirius could tell. Dogs were always keyed in to those sorts of things.

Dumbledore's face also expressed an emotion that confused the furry dog at first, but what was soon slowly understood. There was a hint of disbelief on his face-no-a wanting _not_ to believe. For just a moment, Sirius wondered why Dumbledore would rather he be Regulus, but then thought of what the professor must have seen. Sirius knew that he looked sad, disheveled, and as if he had been through hell and back. Albus Dumbledore would most likely be able to guess at where his sad eyes came from, and that almost made Sirius a little bit pleased. Dumbledore wanted him to be Regulus, because he couldn't believe that Sirius Black would turn his back on James Potter, his best friend, and get involved in the dark arts that his family is known for. And in such a way that would get him thrown into Azkaban.

He could also tell that Albus knew about his Animagus form, from the way he slowly sagged back into his chair. Sirius hadn't been sure, but something that Dumbledore had said during Harry's Fourth Year had left a mark.

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><p><em>Sirius was angry.<em>

_Really angry._

"_How could you let this happen, Dumbledore? You knew something was wrong, and yet you did nothing about it! Harry could have died! He almost did!" Sirius yelled, his voice vibrating throughout the hallway._

_He had only been alone with Dumbledore once that year, before the big Barty Crouch Junior reveal. He certainly had enough time to get his anger out when with Harry in Dumbledore's office, but he didn't want to make Harry tired or uncomfortable by blowing up at Dumbeldore for allowing a Death Eater in the school. Now, for some reason, after ordering Sirius to leave and warn the members of the Order, Dumbledore quickly stopped him for a "talk." If he suspected for one minute that Sirius wouldn't be upset, he had another thing coming._

"_Calm yourself, Sirius." Dumbledore encouraged. "Harry is safe, and isn't that all that matters?" Sirius tried to say something back, but Dumbledore added, "And I suggest you keep your voice down. The Weasleys aren't the only ones who are perhaps still awake."_

_That kept Sirius quiet for a bit, but he turned his back on Dumbledore and began pacing across the length of the hall._

"_I just keep thinking, just, what if he did die?" Sirius rambled quietly, as his voice started shaking. "What would James and Lily do if they knew that I had let him die? Harry would be dead, and they would never forgive me. I have to protect him, I have to-"_

"_Sirius," Dumbledore said, though his own voice was forceful enough to halt Sirius from his pacing. Sirius looked at Dumbledore with sad, broken eyes, and wondered why Dumbledore had asked him to stop in the first place. He was about to leave the grounds to go hang low with Remus for a while, just as he was ordered to do. What could Dumbledore possibly have to say that could be so important?_

"_Listen closely, Sirius." Dumbledore said, looking directly at him. "I've made many mistakes in my life. I have many regrets. If I'm going to be honest, not figuring out that you were an innocent man is one of the top regrets on my list."_

_Sirius was confused. "Why are you telling me this now, Dumbledore? What does this have to do with Harry?"_

_Dumbledore walked over to Sirius and placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "You're some of the only family Harry has left. He needs you now more than ever." Dumbledore smiled sadly. "And I bring up my regrets to tell you not to fret over this turn of events. There are many more things a man can regret, and this is not one of them. You're a loyal man, Sirius, and I could tell that you were blaming yourself for what happened." Dumbledore smiled. "How I did not see that a dog is obviously more loyal than a rat, I'll never know. I know now that you'd never willingly leave him, but stay safe. For Harry."_

_Sirius was touched at Dumbledore's trust in him, but one thing did strike him as odd. "Wait, you knew about our transformations when I was in Azkaban? When the hell did you figure that one out?"_

_Dumbledore only chuckled. "Oh, you'll find that I have many ways of finding things out, Mr. Black." Before Sirius could speak again, Dumbledore quickly turned his back and began walking towards where the Diggorys were waiting, his cryptic response hanging in the air._

"_Remember Sirius, find the old crowd. But of course, I understand if your nose isn't up to it anymore."_

_Taking that as a challenge, Sirius transformed again and bounded away, wondering just how long Dumbledore had known about his Animagus form._

* * *

><p><em>Well, it was before my seventh year <em>Sirius thought to himself, observing how Dumbledore was watching him.

Taking his head out of his hands, Dumbledore looked at the dog before him and said quietly, "You can transform back now, Mr. Black. I believe you."

Jumping up onto his back legs, Sirius transformed back and sat back down across from Dumbledore, reveling in how familiar this scene was. Except there was no Harry to burst in and explain what happened during the third task, and that made Sirius feel an aching emptiness inside his chest.

"So, seeing as I'm not exactly used to this whole 'time travel' thing, I was wondering what happens now?" Sirius asked, his curiosity not hidden in his wondering tone.

Dumbledore contemplated for about a minute, and then said finally, "I met a man who traveled through time many years ago."

Sirius perked up. "That's great! Where can I talk to him?"

"He's dead."

"Oh."

Silence cascaded throughout the room once more. Sirius was growing fed up with the lack of actual information, and asked, "Did he say anything helpful about time travel? Anything that could help me at all?"

"Well," Dumbledore responded, "It would help if I knew how you came to be here. How exactly did you end up falling out of the Mirror?"

Sirius relayed everything that had happened that day, making sure not to include any names or the reason he had been at the Department of Mysteries. He simply said "I was there, and that's all you need to know." He talked about falling through the veil, and the feelings of despair and emptiness that encased him. He told Dumbledore about seeing the Philosopher's Stone, and he knew Dumbledore was surprised that Sirius knew what it was from the way he clutched the stone tighter to his chest. Finally, he told Dumbledore about making a grab for the stone, and then falling right into the Headmaster's office.

"And that's how I ended up here." Sirius finished. "So, from that, is there anything that you know, or am I just stuck here, because if that's the case then-"

"I have a theory." Dumbledore interrupted, comprehension dawning in his old eyes. "Two actually."

Sirius motioned him to continue, and so he did. "My first theory is that you truly have gone backwards in time. That would mean that you're in the same timeline as the one you left." He paused, trying to find words to express what that implied. "I see it, Sirius. In your eyes. Some things have happened that you would want to change, am I correct?" Sirius nodded vigorously. "If that's the case, then I'm afraid that in the first scenario, you can not change anything. If something were to change, terrible things would happen. It's as you said, bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time."

Sirius deflated a bit, but at the same time a suspicious gleam took root. "And the second theory?"

Dumbledore leaned back, trying to explain what he was thinking in the best way he could. "The second theory is based off of my experience with the other time traveler that I've come across. He didn't necessarily travel through time; he traveled to a different timeline, one that differed slightly from the one he came from, but only slightly." At Sirius' confused look, Dumbledore began to explain more in depth. "For example, say in timeline A, a certain potion was created in the early nineteenth century. Then, in timeline B, this potion was not created in the early nineteenth century. In fact, it hadn't been created at all."

Sirius smirked. "I see that this is an example from experience?" He paused, thinking of the implications. "What was this potion called, if I may ask?"

Dumbledore, guessing the same thing, replied, "The Pepperup Potion."

Sirius grew excited. He dared to hope. "Is that the one that exists in the other timeline?"

"No. It exists here."

Sirius sagged his head in defeat. "So, in your time traveler friend's world, that potion didn't exist?"

Dumbledore must have sensed that that was not the answer that Sirius wanted to hear, and sadly replied "No, it did not. That's how we knew that our worlds were different."

"So, if we can find one factor that differs between our timelines-"

"-then you'd be safe to intervene." Dumbledore finished. "However, since we don't know anything yet, I suggest we keep you hidden here until we know for sure. School will be starting in just a few weeks, and I'd rather keep you from your past self if that can be helped."

Sirius smiled, and asked, "Could we compare things now, if that isn't too much to ask?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I was hoping to get to sleep early tonight, but the idea that a stranger may have information not privy to me is intriguing. Let's begin."

* * *

><p>They spent the next ten days talking about their worlds. Potions, spells, history. Sirius' life and his friendship with the other Marauders. The only thing that they could find that could be different was the situation with the Mirror of Erised. Sirius had mentioned that Dumbledore had hidden the stone there in 1991. However, he did not have any proof that Dumbledore hadn't tested it years before, so that point was declared moot.<p>

After the end of the tenth day, Sirius was growing tired. He felt cooped up again, never able to show his face around the castle for fear of getting caught by the professors. It reminded him too much of his time at Grimmauld Place which, in turn, reminded him of Harry. He wondered what Harry and Remus were thinking. He wondered how long he had been gone for.

It was late at night, and he decided that he needed to go to the bathroom before bed, but he was too tired to keep track of where he was going. Making sure to avoid Filch, he wandered throughout the castle and found the first bathroom he saw. Not caring whether or not it was meant for boys or girls, he went inside.

After relieving himself, he became more aware of where he was and cursed himself for his stupidity. He was in the first-floor girls' bathroom.

Otherwise known as Myrtle's bathroom.

Hoping to get away as quickly as possible, he almost made it to the door when he heard a female's voice ask, "Who in the world are you, and what are you doing in my bathroom?"

_**A/N For those of you wondering about the two theories, here's a clearer rundown:**_

_**Theory 1: The time travel from the third book. Harry and Hermione could not directly intervene because they were in the same timeline. Anything they did would affect their own future.**_

_**Theory 2: This one is a little harder to explain. Let's say that there's two timelines. They are exactly the same, except that in one, the Harry Potter series was never written (a tragedy, I know). Therefore, if someone were to travel from our world to the world without Harry Potter (let's say to 2004), then they could make changes because the worlds, though very similar, are not the same. The outcome of the changes would not affect the time traveler. If that's still not completely understood, then the simple way to put it is that if this theory is correct, Sirius can make changes to the timeline and not have it affect him or the canon world, just the world he's found himself in.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	4. The Girl in the Bathroom

_**Loving the support and good reviews. You guys are really awesome! Was unsure that I'd have time to write this week, but I knew I had to get it done. So here it is, chapter four:**_

"Who in the world are you, and what are you doing in my bathroom?"

Sirius blinked. And then he blinked again.

Standing-or should he say floating above him-was a girl who looked like a teenaged Hogwarts' student. She was a ghost, one who seemed very angry that someone was trespassing in her bathroom.

But she wasn't the right ghost.

Though she was transparent. Sirius could tell that her hair was a pale yellow when she was alive, not the dark brown that Moaning Myrtle had. There were no pimples present on her delicate features, another trait that differed greatly from Myrtle's known acne issues. She was thin, beautiful, and, most importantly, did not have glasses.

She was not Moaning Myrtle.

Sirius was dumbstruck at the revelation, trying to come up with an answer. Meanwhile, the unknown ghost girl rolled her eyes, and attempted blowing up a stray hair that had fallen on her face, and sighed when it did not move from its annoying position right over her right eye.

She glared at Sirius, and asked rather tautly, "Well? Are you going to answer or not, because I do not appreciate having a strange man lurking in my bathroom."

Sirius finally regained the ability to speak. "Um…. where's Myrtle?"

The ghost looked very surprised to hear that particular name, and looked contemplative as she examined Sirius. "Why do you want to know?"

Sirius felt a little more confident as he answered, "Merely curious."

The girl did not seem pleased at this answer, but decided to give him a response. "Myrtle. Merlin, I haven't heard that name in years. She's the reason I'm here, you know. Stupid, ugly Myrtle gets to live, and she wastes her life doing who-knows-what-"

"Wait! Did you just say Myrtle is alive?!" Sirius couldn't believe it. He found the difference.

The girl snorted. "Oh, I don't know." Sirius felt his heart fall. "After she left Hogwarts, she holed up somewhere, scarred and depressed. It was probably her guilt over over being the reason that I died."

Sirius fought the urge to smile. Myrtle graduated from Hogwarts. That meant she didn't die here, and didn't become a Hogwarts ghost. But he was still curious over who this mysterious girl was. "You say she caused your death. How exactly did you die?"

She looked at him, outrage in her silvery eyes. He immediately regretted his question; he knew that ghosts did not like to talk about how they died. He had tried for years to get Nearly-Headless Nick to open up, even attending a deathday party or two, but to no avail.

The outrage soon dissipated, and was replaced by something that Sirius could understand: guilt and regret. "I was walking into this bathroom to find Myrtle because I was supposed to get her to stop crying and to come out and return to class. I was told to go find her right after she ran off. I found her and I reprimanded her, and told her to grow up and stop crying. But then, someone else walked into this bathroom. It was a boy; I knew, because I heard his voice. He was whispering something, which I was very much confused by. And that's when I heard this…. hissing noise." She stopped, and tried to get her bearings together. "I opened the stall door, and was going to order whoever it was that he shouldn't be in the girl's bathroom. I looked at the source of the hissing; that sink over there." She gestured, and then finished her tale. "There was a pair of big, yellow eyes. And that's all I remember. I died then and there."

"Wow." Sirius finally said. "That's unbelievable."

The girl looked hurt. "Oh, so you don't believe me either? Not surprising. No one ever believes me. I tell my story to those who ask, just hoping someone will actually believe, but no. Myrtle recounted her tale numerous times, and said that there was no boy, no big eyes. Of course they would disappear. The boy probably fled before Myrtle could get out of that bloody stall."

"How do they think you died, these 'non-believers'?" Sirius asked. He had sat down at this point, intrigued by the girl's tale.

The ghost blew at the unmoving hair once again, "Oh, there are a lot of theories. One of my favorites is that I looked too long at Myrtle's face and dropped dead from the ugliness. But it's officially written that I was somehow killed by this giant spider that Rubeus Hagrid used to take care of." She scoffed. "And yet when I told the ministry that a spider couldn't kill with its eyes, they said nothing in this castle could, so Hagrid was their only suspect."

"Idiots." Sirius mumbled, having dealt with ministry workers before.

The girl had a genuine smile. "I know, right?" She hesitated, before asking gently "You actually believe me?"

Sirius was insulted. "Of course! The ministry has screwed me over more times than I can count; of course I would believe the person who saw it over someone who thought Hagrid could be responsible for murder."

The ghost laughed and floated over to sit next to Sirius. He much preferred this ghost over Myrtle, who would probably have reported him to Filch already.

"You never answered my question." The girl stated, curiosity brimming in her dead eyes.

"Huh?"

"Who are you? We don't get many new adults here at Hogwarts, unless they're the new defense teacher. Would that be you?"

"Oh, right." Sirius was going to tell her his fake name, but decided against it. This poor girl had just told him one of her most private memories. He would tell her the truth.

"Do you believe in time travel?"

* * *

><p>After explaining his circumstances to the girl, she seemed like she believed him. But she did have one question after all was said and done.<p>

"In this world that you come from, am I still alive?"

He had explained that it had been Myrtle who died in the bathroom, and no one else. She seemed sad at this thought, though he doubted it was because she felt bad for Myrtle.

"Merlin's beard, how is it that I still don't know your name?" Sirius asked, wondering how he had not even asked for it that entire time.

The ghost girl looked almost angry as she answered. "Olive. Olive Hornby." She laughed without humor. "Though most students tend to call me 'Horrible Hornby,' because of my bad attitude. I bet if any one of them died, they would have a bad attitude too."

"Olive Hornby." Sirius said, thinking about where he had heard the name before. Olive looked surprised at the use of her whole name. "Oh yeah! You worked for the ministry for a little while, but I think you died sometime in the nineties."

"Did I come back as a ghost?"

"I don't think so."

Olive looked relieved. "That's good to know. Coming back is my greatest regret."

Sirius didn't know what to say. He looked at Olive and told her truthfully. "By coming back, you made me realize that this isn't the same world. I can change things. You've saved a lot of lives, Olive Hornby. My life, and the lives of my two best friends. Thank you."

She smiled a sad smile, and said. "Well, at least I know that I've done some good. Thank you, Sirius Black. I hope to see you around. This you, not the younger one. He's only come in here on occasion. Always the flirt. Who would ever ask a ghost to Hogsmeade, even if they are 'the hottest cold girl I've ever seen'?"

Sirius laughed. That sounded like something he would do. "I'll come back, don't worry. I owe you."

Olive looked happy. "I haven't had someone to talk to in years. This is exciting! I'll be here."

* * *

><p>Sirius was grinning ear to ear as he ran back to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. He did not care that he was in human form and could easily get caught by someone. He did not care that every step he took made a loud thump that could easily wake up anyone in the castle. And he especially did not care that he had his wand out for light, and that the portraits were already whispering about the "strange man in the castle". He never liked those portraits anyway.<p>

_No more hiding_ he thought to himself. _No more being alone._

His conversation with Olive really opened his eyes to how one little thing can change everything. He was happy that he could change things, but he was also painfully aware that nothing he did would save the people he had known in his own time. He knew he couldn't just stand by and watch Lily and James die again, but he was also sure that he would never be able to fully connect with these two versions. But Lily and James! Alive! Oh, what would Harry say if he were-

Sirius stopped running, and had to grab a wall for support. Harry. From all of the excitement, his godson had almost slipped his mind. He wondered what Harry was doing now. He wondered how he and Remus were taking his disappearance. They probably thought he was dead, and in some ways, he guessed he was. He had talked to Dumbledore about the possibility of returning back through the veil, but Dumbledore merely shook his head and said that there was no way back.

A "one way trip" he called it.

If this was the best he could do, than so be it, but he would make sure, above all else, that Harry would be born. As much as he loved James, he knew his duty was to protect Harry, no matter what world he was in. That much was true.

He stood in front of the gargoyle, said the password "Chocolate Frogs," and ran up to Dumbledore's office.

What many did not know is that Dumbledore's sleeping quarters were also connected to his office. By the time he reached the circular room, Sirius had some time to think through his revelation. He stopped in front of the door leading to Dumbledore's room, halting before he knocked. He had time. And besides, he'd been keeping Dumbledore up almost every night. The man deserved some sleep.

Sirius found the bed that Dumbledore had conjured up for him a few nights ago and lay his head down, wondering where Harry and Remus were and what they were doing. He fell asleep with thoughts of marauding and motorbike riding, and a world where Lily and James had never died.

_**A/N Yes, ghost girl is the one and only Olive Hornby, the girl best known for making fun of Myrtle's glasses, and being the first one to find her dead body. I wanted to write Olive off as a "one-chapter-wonder" but writing her story here made me realize how interesting I can make her. I think that Sirius needs someone that he can connect to, and though Dumbledore faced some of the same hardships, he isn't going to open up to Sirius because he never opened up to anyone. Olive has a lot of regrets, and I think that Sirius needs this person who he can talk things through with. I'm pretty sure she's here to stay.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	5. Preventing a Dark Future

_**Happy late Halloween! I wish I were up to the point where I could write a Halloween based chapter, but that will have to wait until we're further along.**_

"Is something the matter, Sirius?"

On the eleventh day of his stay, Sirius had explained to Albus his conversation with the ghost known by the students as "Horrible Hornby," and the difference between their respective timelines. Albus was, understandably, excited. He thought that maybe his new friend could find some happiness at the prospect of changing a perhaps dark and terrible future. However, when looking into the eyes of the man before him, he could tell that not all was well.

The pair were sitting as they were on that first night, though one looked noticeably different. Sirius no longer had bags beneath his eyes, and he was dressed in a way that made him look much more comfortable than he had been before. He was wearing a long blue cloak that fit him to form, and underneath were a pair of soft looking trousers and a similarly navy colored jumper. He wasn't dressed as a pureblood, but the average wizard, and Albus could tell that he was more relaxed in that state. Unfortunately, his eyes remained the same stormy gray, and not once did Albus even dare to use _Legilimency _to see what Sirius was thinking. He didn't think he wanted to know.

Although Sirius should have looked thrilled at the news, Albus could tell that there was something else weighing on the man's mind.

"It's nothing really, Professor, it's just that-" he paused, trying to convey his mixed emotions with words. "I know I should be happy. I was. I really was after my conversation with Olive. I couldn't stop grinning." He sighed heavily. "But then I thought of our own conversation; how I'll never make it home again, and just…. what if I really never do?"

Albus was confused. "Sirius, I thought I explained it to you. There is no chance that you can make it back. I'm sorry."

Sirius almost looked angry, his mouth barely twitching into a scowl. "No, Dumbledore, I understand perfectly well that I won't ever return in this lifetime." He looked to the ground as he shakily asked. "But what if I never get back period, huh? Never see _my_ Lily and James ever again, not even after my death? That's what terrifies me."

Albus contemplated the meaning of Sirius' words; he could tell that he had not seen Lily and James for a very long time. He dared asked the question, "What happened to Lily and James, Sirius?"

Sirius looked up, and barked out a humorless laugh. "How much have you guessed at, Professor? You're an intuitive old coot, so I know you suspect at least a few things."

This wasn't a surprising turn. Albus had purposely neglected asking Sirius any important questions other than "who are you?" and "are you a Death Eater?" for fear of knowing too much about future event s that were, at the time, so clearly going to be out of his control. But now that he knew that those events could be changed and prevented from even occurring, he thought it best to start questioning Sirius Black.

"It's obvious to me that you've gone though a lot, Mr. Black, some things that I probably wouldn't even wish upon my greatest enemy." Sirius beckoned him to go on. "But it seems clear to me that you were in Azkaban, though for just how long I cannot tell."

Sirius smiled. "Is it really that obvious, Professor?"

Albus was stoic; he had been correct. "No one has eyes like yours without being in that wretched place. How long?"

Sirius muttered something, though Albus could not hear what it was. He asked him to speak up, and could clearly make out the words "twelve years" coming almost unidentifiably from Sirius' mouth.

Albus didn't think he wanted to know, but he asked away. "Why?"

Sirius threw his hands up in the air, and yelled forcefully. "For what else? For helping Voldemort find and kill Lily and James Potter, and for causing the explosion that killed thirteen muggles. Who else but Sirius Black, known member of a dark family? Never mind the fact that he was in Gryffindor! Let's ignore the fact that he made it his life goal to go against his family! Let's forget that he considered James Potter a brother in all but blood!" By this point he was panting, rage clear in his voice.

Albus had grabbed for his wand after hearing his proclamation, but by the end of Sirius' rant, he had dropped it just as quickly. Who could suspect that Sirius Black, the biggest blood traitor of them all, could commit such a heinous crime? That he could even think of betraying James Potter was something that no one who knew him could even say. Albus felt ashamed that he had immediately jumped to conclusions, but wondered who in their right mind would want to be this man's enemy.

Contemplating these enormous implications, Alnus asked, "So you yourself were betrayed? Set-up by someone then?"

Sirius looked ready to hit something. "You're damn right I was betrayed."

"By who?"

Sirius sneered. "The rat. Peter Pettigrew."

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement. Albus was utterly shocked. Quiet little Peter; who would have guessed that he could commit such a crime. It was almost as unlikely as Sirius performing the act himself, and as Albus was about to tell him exactly that, he thought of Peter's known personality. His animagus was a rat. He was known to hang around those who were clearly smarter and stronger than he was. And he would always cower behind those who had the most power, which is why becoming a marauder was so appealing to a scared and feeble boy.

It all made so much sense, after putting the pieces together.

Peter would one day betray one of his best friends in exchange for power.

Albus sunk back into his seat, already weary from what he knew was going to be a very long conversation. "Tell me everything, Sirius."

And so he did.

* * *

><p>When Sirius left for something to eat, it gave Albus some time to become familiar with the tale that he had just heard.<p>

Lily Evans and James Potter got together. _Well, that isn't much of a surprise_, Albus mused. Whether he paired them together as Head Boy and Head Girl to reach that ultimate goal was probably suspected by much of the staff. Minerva had even confronted him about it after the letters were sent out, and all he had said about his decision is that it would make for a "very interesting year." He chuckled. _Indeed it will be_.

Then his mind drifted to more somber topics of discussion. A prophecy; those were never a good sign. The fact that the war would get even worse and that even more Order members would die was not a good sign.. And probably the most important part: Voldemort being defeated by a one-year-old little boy by the name of Harry Potter.

As Sirius had mentioned the name, Albus could see the sadness etch itself further into the young man's features, and it wasn't too long after that that Sirius excused himself for a bite to eat, leaving Albus alone in his office.

He would make sure not to mention Harry anymore than he needed to; clearly this was a sore spot for Sirius.

He wondered what to do with the man. He couldn't just hide him away and hope for the best. Sirius was needed in order to bring about change, especially when he had ominously told him that Voldemort would rise again after his downfall. This, too, was another worrying thought, and it made Albus think of ways that that could even be possible. His eyes widened.

_No. It can't be…_

"Okay, Dumbledore, what do I do now?"

Sirius had snapped Albus out of his reverie as he stormed carelessly back into his office. Albus noticed that Sirius seemed to be in better spirits after getting something to eat from the kitchens and letting some of his worry off of his chest. Though, he was certain that the thought of never seeing the people of his own world ever again, not even after his death, was still in the back of his mind. Albus wished there were a way to quell those fears, but he did not want to lie to poor Sirius.

Thinking on Sirius' question, he came to a shaky resolution. "If you aren't comfortable with this, you can always say no."

Sirius perked up, just as excitable as he was in his youth. "Oh, so you do have a plan for me? Let's hear it then, I'm all ears!"

Before answering, Albus worried a bit over this obvious change in mood. The fact that Sirius' emotions drastically changed with every passing second were concerning, for it showed that he wasn't completely stable. He wondered whether this meant his plan was not a good idea after all, but then remembered that he needed to keep an eye on him. Besides, having him close by would allow him to more accurately monitor the man's psyche.

"We don't yet have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this upcoming year. I was going to ask one of my retired Auror friends, but you may know more about fighting off the dark arts than even he." Sirius was quiet, realizing that Albus wasn't just talking about fighting off physical representations of the dark.

Albus could see how conflicted Sirius was about staying so close to people he knew. He wondered if Sirius was really capable of being near so many of the dead. But confliction quickly turned to resolve, and Sirius said fiercely, "I'm in."

* * *

><p>And so it was that, on September 1st of the year 1977, two Sirius Blacks graced the halls of Hogwarts. One was young, his only thoughts being snogging with as many girls as possible, pissing off his family, and pulling pranks with his three best friends. The other was older, wiser, and determined to stop a dark future from occurring in a world that was not entirely his own.<p>

_**A/N I'm hoping to make some of Sirius' mood swings and series of PTSD-esque issues more noticeable as this fic goes on. He's a scarred man, and I want to explore that more later on. And his relationship with his past self will be interesting to write about.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	6. Their Greatest Weapon

_**Sorry I'm posting this really late! Schoolwork has (maybe) gotten the best of me. But here it is, chapter 6!**_

_**And to answer one reviewer's question about whether or not Harry will see Sirius again, he will. But probably not in the way that you're hoping he will.**_

Looking at the Great Hall, Sirius didn't know what to think.

The last time he had been at Hogwarts, the Triwizard tournament had ended and he had spent the majority of his time bouncing back and forth between the Hospital Wing and the Headmaster's office. And the last time he had been in the Great Hall….

Huh. That was a tough one to remember.

But here he was, years older, and though it had felt like forever since he had gazed at it, it technically hadn't been that long. Because there he was, a few feet away and a few years younger, laughing with his friends after an eventful summer. He couldn't remember what they were talking about, but from the glances that were made in Lily's direction, it probably had something to do with her.

Dumbledore had been concerned about what seeing his old friends would do to him, so the suspicious old man decided that the best place for Sirius to sit would be right beside him. So with Dumbledore staring intently at him, Sirius was able to freely gaze upon his friends.

James Potter looked just like how he remembered. With his Head Boy's badge gleaming prominently on his robes, James looked both comfortable and confident. Knowing what his son would look like did wonders with Sirius' imagination, because even though James and Harry looked very similar, there was a few subtle differences between the two. Harry was always more closed off, and not as outgoing as James had been, especially when it came to his looks. James' hair, constantly sticking up, was something that he took pride in and actively kept casually messy. Meanwhile, Harry would always try to keep it tame, while simultaneously participating in James' habit of messing with it when he was nervous. James radiated immaturity and fun, while Harry was more mature and down-to-earth, something that only one who knew both of them well could take notice of.

Across the wooden table for Gryffindor was the beautiful Lily Evans. Her emerald eyes met with James' and she looked away with a huff, her Head Girl's badge somewhat hidden beneath her dark red hair. Sirius smiled. While James tried showing off his accomplishment to anyone he saw, Lily tried to keep it to herself. As modest as ever.

Meanwhile, a younger and less scarred Remus Lupin tried to comfort James, his light green eyes filled with wisdom. He said something quietly under his breath to his four friends, and Peter let loose a loud and almost pitiful laugh. Sirius ground his teeth in frustration, and as Dumbledore gave him a concerned look, he smiled in the old man's direction, but kept his anger hidden within. He would have to do something about Peter. He didn't know what just yet, but he did know that his first order of business was to get rid of the future Death Eater.

Lastly was the younger Sirius Black. The older version looked at his younger self with both sadness and jealousy. Sadness, because he knew what could have awaited him, and jealously, because if he succeeded in changing the future, this version of Sirius would live the life that the older version had been pining and wishing for. Sirius decided that it would be best to try and separate this young and immature boy from himself, and thus would only refer to him as Padfoot when discussing him with Dumbledore.

Speaking of Dumbledore, he was curious as to why the old man had not started his final Welcoming Speech yet. The students looked practically done eating, and Sirius was intrigued to find that he was not the only one curious. The students were now whispering to themselves as to why it had not yet begun, and this even piqued the young Marauders' attentions. Sirius looked at Dumbledore, only to find that Dumbledore had been looking at him from the corner of his eye, most likely for the past few minutes. Sirius motioned his head towards the Great Hall, and, as if taking this as a cue, Dumbledore smiled and began walking towards his podium to begin his speech.

"The very best of evenings to you all!" Dumbledore began, a warm smile gracing his features. Sirius couldn't exactly remember what the speech had consisted of, but he did remember that something big was going to happen at the end. He smirked. This would be fun.

"I welcome our new students, and to our old students I say 'Welcome Back.' As always, I look forward to a wonderful year with each and every one of you. I'd like to inform the new students of a few basic rules. Firstly, no student is allowed in the Forbidden Forest, and any student found there will be quickly punished. Secondly, the following items have been banned from use on the grounds…"

Sirius zoned out for a little while during that speech, because he knew that more than half of those banned items were banned because the Marauders had used them at one point or another. He did notice, however, that Lily Evans was taking notes. Sirius smiled to himself. Nothing had changed.

"I would now like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Joining us this year is Professor Harry Grim. If he could please stand."

Sirius grumbled to himself, and with a sigh stood up and waved to the students in the Great Hall. No one looked particularly interested, and it was most likely because they expected him to be gone by the end of the year like so many professors before him. The only two in the room who looked even remotely engaged were Sirius and Regulus Black.

Padfoot had on his face a look of pure loathing. Sirius gulped. He probably should have taken Dumbledore's advice and disguised himself. However, that ship had sailed, and he most likely looked, at least to his younger self, like a more scarred version of his father. James looked questioningly at his friend, and after Padfoot had whispered something unintelligible into his ear, James looked at Sirius with the exact same amount of disdain. This year was going to be fun.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was Regulus. Sirius had avoided looking at his younger brother for quite some time, because he wasn't sure how he would feel when he saw him. As an older, more experienced man, he felt sorry for the way things turned out for his brother, but knowing the path that he was on just made him feel sad. But looking at him now, with his wide, curious eyes, Sirius knew he had to save him. Regulus had not yet joined the Death Eaters and there was still a chance for him to change. Maybe keeping his appearance could actually play out in his favor after all.

"Now, a warning to you all, if I may." Dumbledore began, snapping Sirius, James, Padfoot and Regulus out of their stupors. Sirius quickly sat down, and Dumbledore continued on. "There have been some rumors going around about a certain group of people who are attempting to, perhaps, change the world. In some ways, they are doing just that. But not in the right way, not for the right reasons, and not for the right cause. There are also rumors that the recent string of murders that have been occurring have also been caused by these certain witches and wizards. I can confirm this to be true. And, though these attacks have been going on for a few years now, it is imperative that all of you are aware of what lies ahead. With the abundance of these attacks growing, and new information being presented to me," Dumbledore looked to Sirius out of the corner of his eye, an action that was not ignored by Padfoot and Regulus, "I must stress upon you all that these attacks will only increase. If anyone has been contacted, or is in connection with these so-called 'Death Eaters' I urge you to tell someone about it. Dark forces are attempting to usurp everything that we've ever known and cherished. And though you may feel that you play an insignificant role right now, please keep this thought in mind. Someone trying to change the world is nothing without followers to support him. *So in the end, their greatest weapon is you."

A poignant silence graced the halls, and Sirius noticed Regulus looked especially pale. Unlike some of the other Slytherins at his table, he was not smiling or scoffing at Dumbledore. Sirius felt his heart leap. Regulus looked upset at the prospect of joining the Death Eaters. There was hope.

"Alright, off to bed then." Dumbledore stated after a few seconds. But before kids could begin getting up, a loud _pop_ was heard above the Hall. Sirius grinned. _And so it begins_.

Everyone looked above their heads, and were surprised to find that instead of looking up at the night sky, they were instead looking at the faces of four, mischievous boys. Someone had messed with the enchantments that were placed on the ceiling and had instead made it so that one particular scene was being played out. In it, the four boys were making faces and laughing at one another. It was truly some spectacular magic.

At this point, the four boys whose faces were prominently displayed on the ceiling were laughing and bowing, while even Dumbledore smiled to himself at the Marauder's beginning of term prank. The only one who looked even remotely upset was Lily Evans, but even Sirius could tell that she was impressed.

Dumbledore, still chuckling to himself, quickly fixed the enchantments, stating, "I congratulate that astounding use of spell work from Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew. Ten points each to Gryffindor. But as much fun as that was, it is time to turn in for the night."

_***This quote was in the Half Blood Prince (not the book-the movie), but I had to put it in. The reason why is because ever since I saw that movie, this quote has always struck a chord because of how true it is. Those who become bad people had to start somewhere, and one can't have an army without followers. The greatest weapon someone can have is the extent that their influence reaches, because one man with crazy ideals isn't as much of a cause for concern as a group of men with crazy ideals. And in the movie, it was specifically used to emphasize the decisions that Draco Malfoy had to make. I thought this might parallel later decisions made by someone else**__*****_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	7. The First Day

Sirius never thought he would be a professor.

When he was young, he dismissed the idea immediately. Why would he ever want to put up with some uppity purebloods that thought they were better then everyone else? He'd already had to deal with that enough at his own home and at Hogwarts as a student. He loved Hogwarts, but in some ways he was glad that, when he graduated, he wouldn't have to deal with the pureblood mania anymore.

He had almost laughed when, in his fifth year, McGonagall had told him that he would make an excellent teacher. Immediately, he asked her whether her eyes were going and she thought she was talking to Remus instead. After a few seconds of having McGonagall glare at him for making such an assumption, she simply smiled a bit (with McGonagall it was always hard to tell) and said something along the lines of "I'm guessing that's a 'no' then."

Sitting at his desk for the first day of class, he wondered what exactly she had seen in him that would make her think that the immature Sirius Black could ever be a professor. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was simply losing it for a second. He was certainly nervous enough. His hands were sweaty and clammy, and he didn't know what exactly he was supposed to do. He had spent the majority of his childhood rebelling against his professors, not noticing their teaching styles! What kind of professor should he be? Would he attempt to emanate the strict and bold McGonagall, the lazy and distracted Binns, the positive and annoying Slughorn, or the fun and outgoing Flitwick? As students started pooling into his classroom, he knew that he had to make a decision. He thought of his experiences with children in the past, and almost immediately scrapped that idea. The only "children" that he had actively been in contact with were Harry and the Weasley kids, and he didn't think that he was ready to think about Harry just yet.

Just as the final student walked in, he made up his mind. Like always, he decided that he would just see how things went. It wasn't exactly his most important class. It was only fifth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, a group that did not consist of any children he would know and was known to typically get along well.

Scanning the classroom, he confirmed the fact that he knew no students in the room, and breathed a quick sigh of relief. He would get his nervousness out with this group and be better for the next group that would walk in later in the day: the NEWT seventh years.

There was only one boy who caught his eye as a possible problem. The boy was surrounded by, what Sirius assumed to be, a group of friends. He was laughing when Sirius looked at him, but the laugh was somehow familiar. Sirius tried to find traits that he could easily recognize, but nothing made him remember. The boy had blond, straw-like hair, and was wearing robes from Ravenclaw. The boy's dark brown eyes were filled with malice, an emotion that Sirius was definitely familiar with. He looked at Sirius with a sneer on his face, and then went back to laughing with his friends. Sirius didn't know what it was about the boy, but something about him felt… off. A sense of familiarity and foreboding washed over him, but he put it behind as his paranoia getting the best of him. He couldn't think of any other kids that he would know, especially a Ravenclaw, who would put him off like that. He looked at the list of names of the students in his class and gulped when he saw the Ravenclaw's name. And he was so sure that-

"Excuse me, Professor?" A snotty voice asked from the back of the room. Sirius looked up to find that the boy he was so concerned with was the one speaking, a disgusted look gracing the young boy's pale features. In Sirius' opinion, he looked almost like a rat, and he gripped the list in his hand more closely. _Great, now I'm thinking about Wormtail. This kid is really pissing me off._

The voice spoke again, snapping Sirius out of his anger for a second. "Are we going to start soon? I'm sure my father would not like to hear that this school's education has fallen far enough for incompetence to eclipse learning."

If there was one thing that Sirius hated more than even Voldemort himself, it was uppity purebloods_. McGonagall is crazy; I'm not fit to be a teacher_. He put on a strained smile, and answered, "It's my first day; just trying to assess who may be a problem in here. Unlike your other teachers, my first judgment of fifth years is happening today."

The boy snorted in response. "Ah, I see you look for a higher caliber of wizard, hm? I suggest you keep an eye out on Savage over there then, he can be a real problem." He pointed towards a small boy in the back, a Hufflepuff by the look of his robes. The Hufflepuff was glaring at the boy, defiance clearly protruding off of him. Sirius noted that the defiance wasn't directed at the class, but at the Ravenclaw who put him on the spot.

The name Savage sounded very familiar, and he realized with a start that there was yet another student in his class who he knew. Or, kind of knew. He remembered Nymphadora had been talking about one of her superiors on the Auror force a few months back, a Muggleborn by the name of Jonathan Savage. Sirius smiled, and, in knowing where the young boy would go, he ignored the jabs made in Jonathan's direction and proclaimed, "Yes, I look for high caliber wizards." He noticed Jon's face fall a bit, but continued, "But I don't look at whose family you're from to determine that. In this class, I judge you on how you treat others, how you treat me, and, of course, how skilled you are in defending against the Dark Arts. So if you're a muggleborn, halfblood, or pureblood, it doesn't matter. I judge on what I see, not what I've heard. So, Mr…" Sirius started, looking at the astounded Ravenclaw. He already knew full well what his name was, but he wanted the boy to know what it's like not being known. Not having his father's influence protecting him.

"Crouch. Barty Crouch." The boy spat, looking insulted. Sirius could feel his hands clamming up again. Another future Death Eater to deal with. Sirius surmised that it would be a miracle if Crouch made it out alive by the end of the year. He already felt like strangling the boy.

"Mr. Crouch. I look forward to examining your work ethic in this class."

* * *

><p>At the end of the period, Sirius thought it went well. Crouch was stuck mumbling to himself in the corner about his "Mudblood-loving professor" while Jonathan Savage looked almost happy as he raised his hand to answer the Defense questions that Sirius was posing. By the end of the class, Sirius saw some color in the young boy's cheeks, and smiled at the improvement.<p>

As kids were leaving, only young Jonathan stayed behind to talk with Sirius. He could tell that the boy was extremely invested in learning about Defense, and Sirius even asked him if he had any ambition in becoming an Auror.

Jonathan shrugged, and mumbled, "I don't think that I can."

Sirius looked him straight in the eyes, and said fiercely, "If you believe it, you'll do it. From what I've seen, you'd make an excellent Auror."

Jon blushed slightly, thanked Sirius, and walked to his next class. Contemplating how protective he already felt for the future Auror, Sirius decided that maybe McGonagall wasn't as crazy as he thought.

As the seventh years staggered in, Sirius felt a similar wave of nausea pass through him, though this time it seemed to be ten times worse. James and Padfoot were the first ones to show up, both looking at him with disdain. He sighed. He was going to have to make it quite clear that he had no relation to the Black family, even if it was a lie.

Remus walked in a little while after, chatting amicably with Lily Evans. Both seemed very engrossed in their conversation, causing James Potter to turn away, and talk even louder with Padfoot. At the sight of their immaturity, Lily crinkled her nose, said a polite farewell to Remus, and stormed off to find a seat next to her friend Marlene McKinnon.

Severus Snape came bounding in almost at the last minute, and, with a quick glance in Lily's direction, he moved to the other side of the room.

When the last of the seventh years took their seats, Sirius cleared his throat, hoping to start off this class on better footing than his previous one.

"Hello. My name is Professor Grim, and I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts' teacher. This year we're going to be studying more in depth spells than last year. Mastering Nonverbal spells, learning more dangerous and protective curses, and learning how to cast the Patronus Charm. Yes?"

He didn't expect a question so early on, but one can expect nothing less from Lily Evans. She looked at him innocently and respectfully, two things that he thought he was incapable of ever being witness to. If James were here-

"Professor, why aren't we learning the Patronus in Charms class? Isn't that a charm?"

Sirius smiled. "Ah yes, very good question, Miss…"

"Evans. Lily Evans, sir." Lily said, with a positive and confident tone in her voice.

"Well, to answer your question Miss Evans, though a Patronus is a charm, its main use is for defensive purposes. Can anyone tell me what this purpose is?"

Lily looked stumped, but James Potter lazily raised his hand, a slight glare still etching his features.

"Yes, Mr.-"

"James Potter, sir. A Patronus is used to fend off dark creatures, such as Dementors."

Sirius smiled. Only the best from the son of an Auror. "Very good, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Can you produce a Patronus?" Padfoot blurted from the back, a small, almost victorious smile gracing his young features.

Sirius frowned. He knew what his younger self was up to. It was quite well known that only a handful of Death Eaters could cast a Patronus, and if they could, it was typically something malevolent in nature.

"I'd prefer if you'd raise your hand when in my class, Mr.…"

"Black. Though I assume that you already knew that, Professor." Padfoot said, a sneer similar to that of Barty Crouch on his face. Sirius sighed.

"No, I didn't know what your name was, Mr. Black, but thank you for informing me in such an eloquent way. And to answer you previous question, yes, I can produce a Patronus."

"What is it?"

"I'd rather not say."

Sirius wasn't ready to reveal who he was just yet. And by producing a Patronus that looked exactly like Padfoot, he would be revealing exactly that. Besides, he hadn't cast the Patronus Charm since before he went to Azkaban, so he wasn't about to pull out his wand and attempt something he wasn't sure he could still do.

Padfoot looked like he wanted to say something else, but he was quickly silenced by Remus, who, with a small shake of his head, managed to cam him down.

Sirius was relieved to not have to talk anymore about it, and left coming up with a contingency plan for his Patronus for a future situation.

"So, anymore questions?"

* * *

><p>Sitting in his office after everyone had left at the end of the day, Sirius thought about many things. First was dealing with Barty Crouch. He knew that there was no hope for that future Death Eater. Second was encouraging Jonathan Savage. That boy had potential, and he knew that if he was encouraged more, he might be a better Auror than he already was. And, finally, Padfoot and James. He still couldn't decide how to approach that landmine, so he decided that playing it cool would be his best course of action. Eventually, he would reveal to them who he really was, but maybe the Marauders were smart enough to figure it out themselves.<p>

In terms of his Patronus problem, he decided to ask Dumbledore what to do. After all, it was the headmaster's idea to reintroduce learning the Patronus Charm into the seventh year curriculum. But first, it was imperative to find out whether or not he could still perform the charm in the first place. Taking out his wand and thinking of his friends, Lily, and Harry, Sirius quietly muttered _Expecto Patronum_.

Coming from the end of his wand was not a big, black dog. It was something more unexpected. Sirius felt his lip quiver as he came face to face with a magnificent silver stag. It looked at him and began gracefully trotting around, looking free and alive. No longer was the source of his happiness in himself. No. That belonged to James.

But that didn't seem right either.

As the stag pranced around the room, he was only reminded of how Harry's stag had looked when he saw it across the lake a few years earlier. So it was not James he was seeing in his office, and it made sense, in a way. It was Harry who he was willing to care for after October 31st, even though he was young and immature at twenty-one. It was the thought of Harry that kept him sane in Azkaban. It was Harry who he would die for, who he would have given his life to protect. Harry was, in so many ways, like a son to him. So he smiled, knowing that though they were worlds away, his godson was still with him.

_**A/N "Savage" was an Auror working with Tonks during Harry's sixth year. That's all the Harry Potter Wiki said about him, so I thought I'd take some liberties with his identity. As for Barty Crouch, I also looked that up, and it said he was born in 1962, making him around 15 or 16 in 1977. Interestingly enough, J.K. never said what House he was in, so I took some liberties with that as well. And with the whole "All Death Eaters were Slytherins" idea, I always have to point a finger at Peter Pettigrew. **_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	8. What He Saw in the Mirror

Albus was curious as to how the first day went.

Of course, he could say without hesitation that he was more nervous than anything else. He was allowing a man who spent twelve years in Azkaban, and who wasn't still all there, to teach the students of his school. So, he had requested that Sirius meet him after classes in order to scout out how everything went.

And to make sure that he hadn't made a mistake.

As Sirius sauntered in after the first day of classes had concluded, Albus noticed something a bit different about the man. For one thing, he looked a little more cleaned up than he had that morning. His robes seemed to be in impeccably better shape, and it looked as if Sirius had combed his previously wild and manic looking hair.

But what stood out most of all was Sirius' completely turned around disposition. He had a slight bounce in his step, and looked more comfortable than he had the entire time he had been in this situation. He seemed to Albus to be more… relaxed. There was a small smile on his ragged face, and his eyes were gleaming with something that Albus could only attribute to hope. Albus let out a small sigh of relief that he didn't know that he was holding. He was so concerned that something would happen. With the combination of the revival of his best friend and the hatred that now stemmed from that best friend, he had been afraid that-

Well, no matter now. Albus smiled and offered Sirius a seat, the same seat that he had sat during their first real conversation. Sirius took a mock bow and chuckled, before falling comfortably in his chair.

Albus took the chair across, the portraits curiously gazing upon the strange pair. Albus had obviously informed Phineas to keep what he heard previously to himself and, at the scoff of the clearly insulted Headmaster, who proclaimed "Why, I would never" and a solemn promise, he was able to keep Sirius' secret from the rest of the Black family. Or, so he hoped.

"I see you're feeling better, Sirius. How was the first day of class?" Albus asked amicably, hoping not to set the man out of his happy stupor.

Sirius contemplated the question, and Albus expected the answer to be more complicated than he originally expected. He was expecting more of a slow progression with Sirius, having him burst through his doors claiming that he couldn't take seeing the ghosts of his friends, while Albus would try to convince him that this was the best way. He thought that it would be a long haul, with benefits coming along the way, but this immediate complacency was something unexpected, something Albus had not yet prepared for.

Crossing his legs at least six times, and leaning back and forth in his seat, Sirius finally found the words he was looking for.

"All in all, I think it went well. Mini Me hates my guts, and so does James, but I put a snobby pureblood in his place, so that's always a plus." Sirius said, a small smirk coming onto his face.

Albus sighed. Ah, so that's where the happiness had come from. He should have known. He was almost afraid to ask which pureblood, but, like always, his curiosity got the better of him, and he reluctantly asked.

Sirius had a vicious grin. "Barty Crouch Junior, the Death Eater responsible for allowing Voldemort to come back to life."

A groan escaped Albus' lips, and at the raised eyebrow of Sirius, Albus explained. "His father is very high up at the ministry. We're in a very precarious situation right now, Sirius. You're not supposed to even exist, let alone be putting children down." As Sirius began to protest, Albus quickly continued, "I'm not saying that the boy didn't deserve some humility, but you are not the correct person to be doing so. The best thing to do, at least for right now, is to lay low and not make much of an impression. Do you understand?"

Sirius was beginning to become angry, but Albus noticed that, surprisingly, his emotions seemed to be not only appropriate, but somewhat in check. He wondered what brought that on, but then he noticed the increasingly forced slow breaths coming from Sirius' slightly opened mouth.

"Why did you want me as a teacher then, Dumbledore?" Sirius asked tersely, a mix of emotions in his eyes. "Why did you want me to be around people if I'm not going to try and change things? Isn't that the reason I had to find some sort of difference? Isn't that the reason you want me to be around James and Lily and Remus"

Albus thought carefully before responding, as to not gauge a more negative response from Sirius. He could tell that the young man was attempting some sort of self-control, and he did not want to ruin that ounce of progress in the right direction.

"Sirius." He finally started, gaining the attention of the broken man. "You're going to make changes, but you have to take it slow. Let the students become accustomed to you. There are many who are probably suspicious of who you are. I regret not performing a glamour on you, for you do indeed look a little too similar to your younger self. Nothing we can do about that now, I suppose, but we need to look forward and not back. Eventually, you can start becoming more noticeable, but for now, it might be a good idea to not make such a great impression."

Sirius looked conflicted with this order, but after many seconds passed, he reluctantly nodded his head. Of course, Albus knew that his order would probably hold ground for one, maybe two days, but he thought it best to get the small stuff out of the way, and let Sirius know that he needed to be careful. He wondered how Sirius would deal with Regulus in the coming days, but he had already agitated him enough, and snapped him out of his happy reverie. He would save that issue for a later date. However, a sense of calm brushed over Sirius, and Albus wondered again if there was more that happened that he was left in the dark about. Before he could question it further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"How dare you speak to the Headmaster like that?! I have been sitting here for the last five minutes completely appalled at the goings on here! And to think, a member of the great and noble Black family would even DARE…"

"That's enough, Phineas." Albus said sternly, turning to face the sometimes unruly portrait. Phineas' face was red with anger, and he was glaring at the now laughing Sirius. "Sirius and I were just having a civil conversation. Go back to what you were doing."

Phineas, clearly still upset, huffed in indignation, and turned away from the current headmaster.

Sirius wiped his eyes in mirth, and the unsteady tension in the room began to dissipate. Albus smiled; maybe that portrait was good for something after all.

"Wow, anytime a family member starts going off on the whole "disappointment" thing, I can't help but laugh. It's just too many things that I've already heard before." Sirius said in a humorous fashion, though Albus could tell there was still a bit of bitter resentment behind those words.

"Well." Albus began, clearly his voice. "If there's nothing more you wish to add, you are dismissed Sirius."

"Actually…" Sirius said, and Albus wondered if he was going to find out what had calmed Sirius down. "I was actually wondering where the Mirror of Erised went?"

Albus was a little surprised at the question, and he too noticed that this was the first time that Sirius had been in the room without the mirror was there. He wondered suspiciously why Sirius wanted to know.

"I put it in a safe place, along with the Philosopher's Stone." Albus answered back slowly. Sirius nodded in understanding, but almost seemed… disappointed?

Albus gulped. If the reason was what he thought it was, then they may have an issue.

"Sirius, why did you want to know?" Albus asked the man solemnly, and Sirius stiffened slightly. And with that, Albus knew exactly what Sirius' problem was.

"I… I know I see them now, as younger versions, but it's just… I miss them, you know? And to see them…"

* * *

><p><em>It was the first night that Sirius had been in a "new world." He hated that phrase. It made it seem like he was so displaced, but that was unfortunately the case. He hated it. He hated that he let Harry down. He could now remember what happened. He mocked Bellatrix, and fell into that damn veil in the Department of Mysteries. What a way to go; falling through some curtains. What he wouldn't give to have James make fun of him for that one, just once.<em>

_Dumbledore had fallen asleep after their long conversation about differing timelines, so, as a natural prankster, Sirius just had to explore. He picked up a couple of interesting instruments off of a table, examined them, and then threw them down in disgust. Nothing interesting. He had heard from Harry that there was a penseive somewhere in the office, but there was very little light, and Sirius knew that if he knocked it over Dumbledore would never again trust him. And then he remembered the mirror._

_Harry had told him the story in a letter, and he knew what could happen if he looked at it too long. But he had to know. So, lighting his wand with the second Lumos of the night, he found the mirror that he had fallen out of and gazed into it. _

_He wasn't exactly surpised at first. On his left, he saw James and Lily. James was just as we was before he died, grinning, his hair tousled and glasses slightly skewed, At his arm was Lily, her hair vibrant and eyes smiling at him. Remus was at his right, a steady hand on his shoulder. Sirius began thinking of how much he had used Remus in the past few months. Remus was really his last friend in the world, and he had been taking out a lot of his frustration out on the already bruised and crippled man. Poor Remus probably thought that he was the last true Marauder left alive. Sirius felt like he had betrayed him by disappearing, leaving him to care for Harry-_

_And that's when he saw Harry. Harry, who was in between James and Lily. Harry, who looked healthy and happy and well fed. Harry, who bore no scar on his head. _

_He felt his breath leave him when he saw what he desired. The four most important people in his life, all standing around him. Healthy. Happy. Alive._

_And he knew, without a doubt, that it would be very hard for him to stop looking in the mirror._

* * *

><p>Albus understood more than Sirius thought he did. The mirror drew him in in the same way, which is why he knew he had to distance himself from it. He contemplated telling Sirius about Ariana and Gellert and Aberforth, but thought against it. That would be a story for another night.<p>

"Sirius, you have to understand that this was for the best. Trust me." Albus said sadly.

More confliction crossed over Sirius' face, but it fell into a wave of realization as he muttered "the stag." He looked at Albus a bit differently. "My problem before," he started, "was that I couldn't see them at all. Sure, I see them younger now, but that isn't them. But, on the other hand, it is them. So I see my friends, in some way, but Harry was missing. But I think I may have found him again.

He leaned back, and blew a hair out of his face. "I think my greatest desire would be seeing them happy and alive, but if they were happy and alive, they wouldn't be the same people, you know? So I'll make sure that happens. That the ones here are happy. But I want to see my James and Lily, my Remus, and my Harry again. I want their happiness here, but I also need to know that I'll see my own loved ones again. Does that make any sense?"

Albus thought this was a noble want, the want for his alternate friends to be happy, and nodded. Though not understanding the way he was able to see his godson again, he smiled and with a nod and goodbye, they both parted ways for the night.

_**A/N Update on when I update. I'm going to try and motivate myself for twice a week. Look out for Thursdays and Sundays (or days close to that anyway).**_

_**By the way, this chapter was written a bit quicker than the last few, so if there are any glaring problems, please let me know!**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


	9. Fireside Conversations

_**Well, I already haven't stuck to my Thursday/Sunday plan. In my defense, we Americans were celebrating Thanksgiving (and, like the patriotic person I am, I totally forgot). And to top it all off, any work that I had done got erased when my computer crashed. Not a good way to start off the week.**_

_**This chapter is in the younger Sirius' perspective, and he will, of course, refer to himself as Sirius and the older him as just "Grim."**_

There was something not quite right about that new professor.

Sirius Black counted himself as many things: devilishly handsome, great at snogging, and a bloody good prankster. However, "naïve" and "go-with-the-flow" were never words that entered his vocabulary, and he certainly hoped that they never would. So when thinking about Professor Grim, his teeth were on edge and a chill made its way slowly up his spine.

The fact that the man outright refused to show off his Patronus was already a warning sign. Sirius had lived with enough Slytherins to know that those who enjoyed participating in the dark arts could rarely conjure one, and when they could, it was more times than not a demonic representation of that particular person's soul. He hated to say "always" when referring to that, because he was pretty sure that his Patronus was going to be the omen of death, the grim. He couldn't exactly generalize that when he himself was involved.

"And that's another thing! The man's last name is "Grim" for crying out loud! Death Omen, anyone?" Sirius said, outwardly expressing his distaste for the professor in front of the entire common room.

He was lounged across the couch in front of the fireplace, attempting to do his potions homework, but unable to concentrate due to the person weighing heavily on his mind. At his right was James, looking at him in confusion for his sudden outburst. His hair was messy, as was typical of him, and both of their ties were hanging loose around their necks, which could possibly be misconstrued as them having too much fun in the broom closet that, just moments ago, Sirius came triumphantly strutting from.

Remus was on the seat to his left, looking at him curiously and then shaking his head in amusement. Unlike James, Remus thought that Sirius' ramblings about Grim were quite amusing and not important to pay attention to.

Finally, Peter lay on the floor in front of the three of them, trying and probably failing to complete his Charms homework. Charms was one of the only OWLs that Peter managed to get in his fifth year. After much begging, he was allowed into the NEWT transfiguration class (which shocked the other three marauders, seeing as Peter could turn himself into a bloody rat, but couldn't turn a pig into a desk). After that, it was useless classes such as Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. The other Marauders, of course, felt bad that Peter wasn't in any of the same classes for the most pat, but the boy simply shrugged it off. Sirius was sometimes amazed. He knew he'd be just a little upset if he couldn't be in the majority of his friends' classes.

The common room was mostly empty, as many students preferred to work in their respective dorms, especially when the four Gryffindor pranksters were there. The room was dimly lit, but the Marauders didn't exactly mind. They were seated right in front of the fire, so of course they had all the light they needed.

"What are you going on about now, Black? I think Professor Grim is extremely knowledgeable," came a voice from directly above Sirius.

He turned his head up to find Lily Evans looking hatefully down in his direction, a sneer on her otherwise delicate features. He could definitely see what Prongs was always on about, Lily Evans was a beautiful girl. However, that's all Sirius could admit to any appealing qualities. She currently had an angered and obnoxious look to her, something that Sirius tended to stay far away from. This was only coupled by the fact that her robes were always impeccable, something Sirius was always astounded at. How she had not yet worn something a little more revealing was beyond Sirius' level of comprehension. It was in these little ways that Sirius had urged his best mate to get over the so-called "girl of his dreams," but James just would not have it. _Maybe it's destiny,_ Sirius thought smugly to himself. _The Potter men do always go after red heads…_

"Black! What? Not going to even respond?" Evans said triumphantly above him.

Sirius scoffed. "I was getting to it, Evans. Merlin's Pants, you're irritating. I was _going _to say that Grim is hiding something, but now I don't even think I should be humoring you with a response when I know that I'm so clearly in the right…"

"Hmph." Evans made a sound similar to a snooty muggle girl, which made this interaction all the more amusing in Sirius' opinion. Possibly growing tired of having him look up at her, she made her way around, so that she was now facing the three boys, with Peter sitting up beside her. The fire crackled behind her, making her hair look even redder than it was before. Sirius looked to his right and saw a bit of drool coming out of James' mouth, to which he elbowed his mate with a look that said _Knock it off_.

"So he may be hiding something, big deal." Evans finally said, rolling her deep green eyes at the same time. "I'm fairly certain professors are allowed to have actual lives outside of school, or is that something that's forbidden in your book, Black?"

Sirius was eager to get into a heated debate with Lily Evans. He was typically only second fiddle to any argument that James would have with the girl, and he was itching to get into it himself. "Well now Evans, clearly you have no idea what's going on in the world. You see, there are people out there who want to hurt pretty birds like you, so to have a mysterious teacher show up out of the blue, it's a little suspicious, don't you think?"

Evans bit her lip, a clear sign that Sirius had made a good point. James grinned, and the two high fived each other. Then, Evans smirked to herself and said heatedly, "You're right, Black. There are definitely Death Eaters and potential candidates running around out there. " Sirius noticed her eyes went a bit downcast at the mention of "potential candidates." _Typical_, he mused, _she's thinking about stupid Snivellus. _"But he had to go through Dumbledore to be here, and Dumbledore is, well, Dumbledore. Don't you think he would have noticed if his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a Death Eater? If Dumbledore trusts him, you would be right to do so as well."

James looked a bit concerned. "Pads, she has a point you know," he whispered under his breath.

Sirius was unconvinced. He wondered whether he should let people other than James know about what he knew. About how Grim looked like his father or, more specifically, like a Black. How Dumbledore glanced to him when talking about coming across "new information." How Sirius got a chill anytime Grim looked at him. How much madness he saw in Grim's eyes.

And finally, something he had yet to tell James, because he was too afraid of his response. He was definitely concerned with how much Grim looked like a worn, but older version of himself. And he couldn't shake the feeling that he was on to something with that particular thought.

But he said none of these things to Lily Evans, and instead responded with an annoyed grunt. Feeling she had convinced him about Grim, she smiled sweetly at them and then walked away, probably to continue doing her mountain of homework.

"Padfoot, why didn't you tell her about him looking like a Black and all that?" James asked covertly, making sure only the Marauders could hear him. Remus and Peter looked confused, but Sirius responded, "Why didn't you?"

James looked contemplative, and then huddling even closer to his three friends, whispered, "I suppose it's because it was your secret to share."

"I'm confused, what secret?" Peter said from the ground, and a little too loudly. The other three had almost forgotten that he was there, so they got out of their seats, told him to _say things quieter_, and sat in a circle in front of the fireplace.

Sirius explained to Remus and Peter about what he noticed about Grim, and Remus was the one who asked, "Have you talked to Dumbledore about this, Sirius?"

Sirius snorted. "Yeah right, Moony, what am I supposed to say? 'Hey Dumbledore, you're looking splendid this fine morn, have you done something different with your beard? Say, did you know that your new professor bears a striking resemblance to my father? What trying times these are for DEATH EATERS.' How does that sound to you, Moony? Paranoid? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Sirius sat back with his arms across his chest, and with a slight tap from James he fell onto his back. Laughter aside, he sat back up and said, "Well? Am I wrong?"

James was the one who answered this time. "No, you aren't. I say we keep an eye on this new professor. You know, to see how things go and give him the benefit of the doubt. For all we know, he could be a muggleborn who just so happens to look like a member of a prestigious family. It could be how he's gotten by so long. I mean, he doesn't seem like a bad guy. Hell, I heard he put that snot-nosed Barty Crouch in his place for poking fun at a muggleborn."

Sirius was surprised at this one. "Really? Well, he could always have some ulterior motive for that one, I guess." He said this with less enthusiasm than he had intended.

Remus looked confused. "Maybe. But if he's willing to stick up for the so called 'inferior class,' he already has a star in my book."

James snorted, "Don't look now, Moony's a teacher! A 'star in his book.' What a phrase, you old man."

Remus rolled his eyes and pushed James, who was now the second Marauder to fall on his back that night. "Don't be stupid Prongs, no one in their right mind would allow me to be a teacher, what with my condition."

An engulfing silence stopped the laughter from the group after Remus realized what he said. Peter, looking nervously at all of them, was the one to break the ice. "Well lads, I think it's time to head up for the night, don't you think?"

They all agreed and packed their bags, and even though Sirius complained about how he had not finished his potions work, they all knew it probably would not have gotten done anyway.

* * *

><p>Lily Evans was as much of a good girl as they come, but even though that was generally the case, she couldn't help but listen in to the Marauder's "top secret" conversation. Those boys were so oblivious to almost everything around them, not even noticing her lingering nearby. They also couldn't actually whisper for their lives.<p>

Of course, she already knew what Remus' "condition" was, even if he hadn't told her. And she could see the resemblance between Sirius and the new professor, so she wasn't ignorant to that either. However, she felt that Sirius was also keeping another worry from even his best friends, because she could tell that he was a nervous wreck. Maybe he knew Grim from somewhere, but was afraid to share? Either way, she intended to get to the bottom of it, and soon.

As the last of the fire died out, so did Lily's resolve, and with a flick of her wand, her books were packed and she headed quietly up the stairs.

_**I really do love the support this story is getting. Seeing as I know how this story ends, I don't exactly need help for that, but I would appreciate some ideas for filler chapters. It isn't that I don't have ideas myself, but if anyone wants to see a certain Marauder-era trope, let me know, and I'll see what I can do.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**~M**_


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